One is Quite Enough
by LusayLu182
Summary: Courfeyrac's younger sister Lucille is visiting Paris for the first time, but maybe there's something more to it. Is Courfeyrac just being a kind older brother, or has he figured out the key to breaking down marble?


**Lusay: Just another story I came up with. Enjoy and review!**

_One is Quite Enough_

_By: LusayLu182_

Chapter one: Courfeyrac's "Emergency"

Summers were intended to be spent in this manner: leisurely and carefree, without the worries of school and deadlines and exams. It was a time to be spent with your friends, family, and loved ones, strolling the parks or attending the theater. These were the days that seemed to float by slowly, like a sigh. And of course, laced with fun activities for every day that passed.

Enjolras, on the other hand, spent the free time of his summer days in his room, hunched over his desk in a studious manner for hours at a time, pen in hand, scratching down whatever came to his mind. He'd make an occasional mistake, frown in annoyance, crumble the sheet of paper, and toss it over his shoulder, adding to the growing mess on the floor.

The young man dipped his feather quill pen into the black ink and continued writing: _In times like these, my brothers, we must forget rank and class. There should be no use of titles, of "Monsieur" or "scoundrel," but every man is your brother, everyone is a citizen. How are we to band together to end this tyranny when we cannot-_

A sudden knock at the door startled him out of his concentrated thoughts, causing him to spill some ink on his writings. Enjolras sighed in frustration and rubbed his temples under his blond curls. "Come in," he grumbled tiredly.

The door opened and Combeferre stuck his head in, his look slightly apologetic. "I thought I'd find you in here," he said as he shut the door behind him. He looked around the room slowly, taking in the closed curtains, the unmade bed, and the papers littering the floor. "You're still writing up your speech?" he asked, not sounding surprised.

Enjolras crumpled the ruined paper in his hands and smiled with a slight air of mischievousness masked in stress. "I would be finished by now," he said carefully, "if you and the others would let me be for the time needed." he threw the wad of paper at his friend, but it missed the mark by a long shot, landing about three feet away from Combeferre's boot.

The medical student laughed. "And leave my closest friend to live the life of a hermit all summer? I'm afraid that's not possible." He walked over to the window beside the desk and tugged the curtains open, letting streams of light shine into the room.

"I'm not a hermit," Enjolras protested. "But I have to get the people on our side for certain. How are we to fight for them if they do not even know if they want to be fought for?" He waved his arms as he spoke, trying to emphasize his point.

Combeferre wasn't listening, or he at least pretended that he wasn't. "Paris is having a wonderful summer this year," he announced pleasantly. "Which you would know, Enjolras, if you ever opened your window. You won't even be able to give that speech if you keep yourself holed up for much longer. Sun and air are vital to one's health."

Enjolras rolled his eyes and stood up, stretching a bit. "You're lecturing again, 'Ferre. You've been working recently, I'm sure." He couldn't help but smile slightly, hoping he wasn't caught changing the subject.

Combeferre didn't take his eyes off the window. "You know me too well, but stop trying to change the subject." he turned and looked at his younger friend with a look of business, a smile in his brown eyes. "This doctor is prescribing the rest of the day out side this stuffy room. Courfeyrac has been telling everyone that you are transforming into a cranky old recluse."

"He really said that?" Enjolras asked with a chuckle, joining his Combeferre at the window.

"You act as though he wouldn't. He also told me to pass along the message. Our friend has apparently cooked himself one of his little emergencies and would like our help- yours specifically."

Enjolras couldn't help but groan. He and Courfeyrac had a disagreement on the definition of "emergency." He carelessly used the word as a code for all his impish deeds, and when he asked for Enjolras in particular it was trouble in its purest form.

"I think I'll pass today," he said cautiously. The last time he had gone to help an "emergency," it had been a complex scheme to find a girl Marius would be interested in, except Courfeyrac had decided to invite all these young women to a picnic, telling them that he- Enjolras- would be there. Instead of flirting with Marius, they had surrounded him and pestered him the entire day.

Skipping this "emergency" sounded like a good idea.

Unfortunately, Combeferre wouldn't take "no" for an answer. "Courfeyrac told me you have no other choice. I'm to drag you there if necessary."

Enjolras smirked in spite of himself. Combeferre couldn't drag him to the door even if he tried and both of them knew that. "I'm sure that would work," he said sarcastically.

Combeferre frowned slightly. "Everyone will be there. You don't have to worry about one of his outrageous plans."

"Everyone was there last time as well."

"We're going to his apartment, Enjolras. You know he wouldn't dare bring a women there."

Combeferre did have a point. Courfeyrac lived in one of the shabbiest buildings in Paris, and avoided letting his mistresses know of it as if it were the plague. It would appear to be safe, but Enjolras knew not to judge Courfeyrac by his appeals.

"I'd rather stay here."

"You are the most stubborn man I've ever met, Enjolras!" Combeferre rolled his eyes. He didn't get annoyed often, but he looked a bit fed up at the moment. "Do you want me to hold your hand and walk you to his apartment like the child you're acting like?"

Enjolras had forgotten: it took a lot to get gentle Combeferre upset, but once you got him to that point...he was a human replica of a volcano- an irrational, exaggerating volcano wearing spectacles. "There's no need to hold my hand," he said with dignity. "I'm quite capable of walking there on my own two feet, thank you."

Combeferre smiled suddenly, calming down as quickly as he had erupted. "You're going, then?"

_I never said that._ "Of course. You didn't think I'd make you drag me there, did you?" Enjolras asked, lightly pushing Combeferre's shoulder.

"I hoped you wouldn't," he laughed. "I'm afraid I wouldn't have gotten far. Now, we should leave right away, since we're walking-"

"Did you say walking? Courfeyrac lives on the other side of the city!"

"And you could use the air, the sun, and the exercise. Your poor muscles must hate you." Combeferre noted. "And when you get back, you should go to sleep right away. Everyone can tell when you haven't slept enough."

Enjolras touched the sagging skin under his right eye self-consciously. "Alright, let's go," he submitted, fetching his coat. He knew he wasn't going to get out of this one.

A few moments later they were strolling down the street, chatting as they hadn't done in a while._ Combeferre and Courfeyrac are right,_ Enjolras thought. _I am becoming a hermit._ He tried to make it up by carrying a conversation that, for once, had nothing to do with revolutions and barricades, and Combeferre seemed to accept it.

They finally reached Courfeyrac's and knocked. Enjolras prayed he hadn't fallen into a trap. _If they have one woman in that room..._

Courfeyrac opened the door after the first knock, his entire face lighting up with an enormous smile. "Enjolras!" He annouced to what seemed to be the world. Courfeyrac's animation took some getting used to, and Enjolras was rusty._ I almost forgot how loud he is..._

"Welcome, Monsieur l'Abbé," he added with a dramatic bow, stepping aside to let them in.

Combeferre chuckled. "Isn't that what you used to call Marius?"

"Yes, but then he went mad over this girl he fell in love with, apparently. He won't even tell me her name! Instead he goes off around nine in the evening and doesn't return until two! He comes in at two every morning and wakes me up. I cannot stand it."

Enjolras and Combeferre were the last ones to arrive, because the others were already stuffed inside Courfeyrac's small apartment. There wasn't any sign of a woman. Enjolras could breathe easier.

"Welcome back to the real world, Enjolras," Bahorel joked, and everyone laughed.

"You'd better have a good reason to drag me here, Courfeyrac," Enjolras said. "I have work to finish."

"Enjolras, I assure you, this is important," Courfeyrac nodded, pushing past everyone to make it to the center of the room. "I would have had us meet in Corinth or the Musain, but my business concerns this ratty place." He took a small sip from his glass and continued.

"My younger sister, Lucille, is coming tomorrow, and I've procrastinated cleaning this place long enough! So I thought 'I have myself eight able-bodied friends, not including Marius, who is never around. I might as well put them to work!'"

Grantaire stared at him from his corner. "So you brought us here to clean your flat?"

"Of course!" Courfeyrac nodded so hard his brown curls bounced. "Any woman would be appalled if she were to see such a sight!"

So this was the emergency.

Jehan looked around. "I suppose you're right. Is it possible to change this bachelor's room into something a bit more homely?"

"What are you going to do with Marius?" Bossuet asked with a laugh. "Let him sleep outside?"

"I'm tempted to," Courfeyrac responded. "But perhaps one of you could take him in and save me the trouble? He doesn't take up much space, all he does is sleep a couple of odd hours and he's out for the rest of the day."

"I would," Feuilly smiled. "But I'm afraid I can hardly lie down and turn around in my room."

Joly nodded sympathetically. "Bossuet takes up all my space," he said, poking his friend with the end of his cane.

Enjolras sighed._ Is this why he wanted me here?_ "I suppose I could do it," he said begrudgingly.

Courfeyrac brightened. "Thank you. I'll let him know that he doesn't need to sleep out front for the next two weeks."

_Two weeks?!_ Enjolras had a feeling he wasn't going to finish his speech any time soon.


End file.
